Today's photography ventures beyond the real observable and achieves effects of beauty and spirituality, this proposal being particularly true for the exhibition, Singular and Plural, by Angela Hernández. The author confirms her virtuosity in the use of the camera, and we spontaneously identify, in the creative process, an interior look that inspires the exterior gaze. Angela Hernández is a writer and poet ... His works, according to three thematic facets, transmit both visual impact and lyric magic.
The photographic image usually reveals a strange reality that a simple glance never perceives, and in addition we find here an organic unity of the photographs with miniature verses, specially written. We observe again the fecundity of an interaction between the literary and the visual.
Informing, describing and even documenting, there is no one who dominates Angela Hernández more than those functions of photography: she integrates herself into the environment and comes to project it, treating her formal findings as a humanistic concern and a commitment to beauty.
By the way, there are photographs that deserve a special analysis, conjugating a strict direct shot with a surprising poetic vision, as well as the delicate splendor of the leaves. The everyday environment acquires contemporary aesthetic dimensions in the walls: the palette is exuberant and multiple modulated, as well as deaf and monochromatic. The emotional flow of Angela Hernandez explodes at the same time and concentrates on her approaches to the crusts, surprising her faculty of metamorphosis. And always the technical quality increases the optical and aesthetic efficiency.
The eye, the heart, the mind merge in a language, in a totalizing expression. Each fragment becomes a hypnotic micro-landscape: from foliages to leaves, from centennial trunks to crushed assaults, from rock walls intervened by time to lettrist, neo-figurative and sibylline graffiti. And what about the unexpected appearance of human silhouettes in space, looking like the reality transcended in the fiction of an adventure?
Angela's passion defines this communicating aesthetic. Luminosity and clarity in all its nuances often cross the threshold of transcendence. We warn the fervent personality that, in the sublime harmonies of the visible, perceive the glory of nature and a supernatural imprint even ...
If the permanent miracle of the beautiful remains, however, it totally changes ... when the photographer takes over the walls, she becomes a "Street artist" or reminds us of the old "new realism" intoxicated by the lacerations and the baroque of wear. Nor have we forgotten the poetry collection "Onirias", an exquisite duo of verses and images: in "Dibujo mi imaginación", a short poem that was at once hermetic and fascinating, and the photograph splashed with stains on a wall, covered by graffiti ...
In short, photography, now the owner and mistress, exerts a fascination comparable to the spell of poetry, and Angela Hernández presents a trilogy that offers the intrinsic charm of the writing of light. The first stage is the National Gallery of Fine Arts, then this Singular show ... will follow a Plural itinerary, so that other audiences receive it and enjoy it.
Marianne from Tolentino

A window opens before me, sudden. I have to immerse myself in what is offered to me. It is an intense act. Exhausting. Marvelous Cyclic, maybe. Like a swarm, like the migrations of the monarch butterflies, like the passage of the dry seed to germinated grain, like the maturation of a leaf of beach grape or copey. This act reveals an image.
For some reason that I do not know, in photography I am attracted by the insignificant data. I exempt it from importance. I suspect in this a small light to grasp the great mystery of things.
Traveling towards the synthesis, I perceive cosmic flashes, murmurs, perfumes, whispers, enchantments.
My eye escapes from the hustle and bustle as a girl takes off the dress that shortens her breath to show one darned by his imagination. My eye has seen in the leaf litter the transit of the sun to dust. The desire for immanent tenderness overturned in a trunk of a century. The gates in a wall. The watchmaking of chlorophyll.
In the bark of eucalyptus two hearts have marked their turn of ecstasy. Urban mists draw abstract in a porous wall. At ground level, the dawn and the twilight sift a branch. On the side of a wall, the universe yawns. The light elaborates. The penumbras nest.
Photography and poetry are two faces of the same adventure: the fishing of instants alive. I follow them on paths that float in the sea of ​​contacts. The conscience of now is a kiss. The explosion of a star. The greenness of a mint leaf. The verb. Stealth
From the experience of touring parks, forests and alleyways, the images of this exhibition have emerged. While walking, a very slight glare, luck of rubbing, leads to dialogue. An intuition takes shape. The camera is transport. (I avoid tripod, frash, attachments).
Singular and plural is a poetic story in visual code. It borders on a kind of knowledge, from whose root I ignore everything. It can be made of spirit or it can be organic. Its atmosphere derives from the desire to cast anchor in reality (or in illusion). If you look at the whole calmly, in silence, you will see regions that are as elusive to us as family members.
How different, or how similar, are the hand drawn by a bison in the cave of Altamira, the one that in a metropolis recorded two names in a palm and the one that has released the camera to write these lines? Has the same impulse encouraged them?
Understanding adds meaning to life.

A window opens before me, sudden. I have to immerse myself in what is offered to me. It is an intense act. Exhausting. Marvelous Cyclic, maybe. Like a swarm, like the migrations of the monarch butterflies, like the passage of the dry seed to germinated grain, like the maturation of a leaf of beach grape or copey. This act reveals an image.
For some reason that I do not know, in photography I am attracted by the insignificant data. I exempt it from importance. I suspect in this a small light to grasp the great mystery of things.
Traveling towards the synthesis, I perceive cosmic flashes, murmurs, perfumes, whispers, enchantments.
My eye escapes from the hustle and bustle as a girl takes off the dress that shortens her breath to show one darned by his imagination. My eye has seen in the leaf litter the transit of the sun to dust. The desire for immanent tenderness overturned in a trunk of a century. The gates in a wall. The watchmaking of chlorophyll.
In the bark of eucalyptus two hearts have marked their turn of ecstasy. Urban mists draw abstract in a porous wall. At ground level, the dawn and the twilight sift a branch. On the side of a wall, the universe yawns. The light elaborates. The penumbras nest.
Photography and poetry are two faces of the same adventure: the fishing of instants alive. I follow them on paths that float in the sea of ​​contacts. The conscience of now is a kiss. The explosion of a star. The greenness of a mint leaf. The verb. Stealth
From the experience of touring parks, forests and alleyways, the images of this exhibition have emerged. While walking, a very slight glare, luck of rubbing, leads to dialogue. An intuition takes shape. The camera is transport. (I avoid tripod, frash, attachments).
Singular and plural is a poetic story in visual code. It borders on a kind of knowledge, from whose root I ignore everything. It can be made of spirit or it can be organic. Its atmosphere derives from the desire to cast anchor in reality (or in illusion). If you look at the whole calmly, in silence, you will see regions that are as elusive to us as family members.
How different, or how similar, are the hand drawn by a bison in the cave of Altamira, the one that in a metropolis recorded two names in a palm and the one that has released the camera to write these lines? Has the same impulse encouraged them?
Understanding adds meaning to life.